Forgotten:RewriteMaybe
by Biocide
Summary: Left on a long dead planet, an unknown soldier walks. Facing the aftermath and years of solitude, she is found. But it is unclear if it is friend or foe.  Eventual MCxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! **just a bit of editing. Let a few things slip and a few things were out of order (not that anyone else would see but me... damn you OCD) so I'm going to touch it up. Again, a **_HUGE_** thank you to Credete for posting this up while I was away of vacation and thank you for Recon 11 and 11SnowLeopard11 for being the first to review! Both of your comments brought a smile to my face and made my day when I read them yesterday. I am just going to edit a few things I didn't catch before handing it over to my beta, but there's no need to reread unless if you really want to.

Thanks!

**Edit: another small sweep**

I tried again and again. No answer. Static was my only reply.

A scream rose in my throat before I choked it down, settling on hefting a decently sized rock and hurtling it at a boulder. It shattered upon impact.

How long has it been since seeing another human, other than the still smoldering corpses that lie on the cracked asphalt? I have seen videos of them, clips I have picked up and proceeded to watch the perfect lives of the average civilians. The majority of them were of the security cameras stationed in cities, filming their last moments of life.

They reminded me of those whom I had when I was young, of me and my brothers and sisters, filled with childhood memories and pictures up until adulthood. I still had some stored in my memory banks, a clip embedded within my helmet that replaced the camera originally installed to record my progress and life. It wasn't needed. It was never needed.

My sisters, my brothers, mom and dad... my family. All close yet no blood relation. Complete strangers became friends so close you would volunteer to die for.

How I wish I could have volunteered.

My brother, my friend- my best friend- had died young; too young. He was barely old enough to even experience the thrills and horrors of puberty. Many of my siblings, little more than half, died during and after a process called augmentation. He had died on the table.

They could do nothing, did nothing, to save the beings. They did everything they could to save the subjects. I still blame them from time to time for their deaths. Them, the scientists, our... aunts and uncles, if you would. They were not seen as our parents, and they were definitely not seen as one of us. They were more like a distant relative, a doctor like their job describes... or that ratty old aunt that rants on all your failures and beats you down.

Mix that thought with lots of needles.

When I do not blame them, I blame myself for the loss of my brothers and sisters.

Though there is much grief, and many lost, there were many of us. Hopefully, there still are. Fighting for our cause, our lives, for humanity itself. There must be a war going on. If there wasn't, wouldn't they take the time to check our home and look for survivors? Look for me, their little sister?

Or maybe they already did, and while doing so marked me as KIA. No, not KIA; MIA. Spartans never die.

Even so, they would look for me until they found a body. I mean they knew I had been frozen all this time, right? They wouldn't just leave and forget about me.

Right?

Debris crunched underfoot as I trotted along, looking for anything but the ugly remains of what used to be home to many. As of yet, I have only seen two survivors. Unfortunately, neither were too happy to see me. One was too far gone to be saved, dead inside, laid with a half skeleton of her daughter. The other believed that I was one of whom who had done this to our once lively world, the harsh words he screamed made no difference as I had walked past his battle worn body, his legs crushed and mangled, blind in the eyes. That was long ago, and now I am forever alone.

Bodies lay in the streets, bones and rotting flesh lying on top of blood stained grounds. Half crumbled buildings surround the area, deteriorating. Smashed and broken windows, eyes of the dead watching every movement, with the wind making shrill cries and wails in the dead city.

Strangely enough, I never saw a body of the people who did this. No unusual uniforms, no high tech body suits, nothing of any sorts that differentiated civilians from soldiers. Who could have turned this place, once so full of life, into a scene straight out of the after effects of a horror movie?

Reports that have long since collected its fair share of dust, tell nothing of news on other parts of the planet- except the same thing over and over. _Under attack... The Enemy have found us… Humanity is doomed…_

From some video clips, some civilians that had not been gunned down attempted a rescue, only to have the ships explode midair… Horrible, to feel like you're safe and letting your guard down because a metal casing is around you. Then you blow up.

While searching towns, I've seen bodies in the houses. Now I resort to wandering the streets, following the path of a single highway. Cars and buses of all kinds scattered among the road, rusted over and useless. Melted even. Apparently the few smart civilians, no matter how few there are, had made the decision to try and hide in their homes and wait out the attack. They then would be either found, or die from the poisonous gases that reeked outside my helmet. Though dispersed over time, some areas are much too dangerous, even for a Spartan.

_Hands grabbed at flailing limbs, more and more being laid upon the being as the struggling increased._

"_Calm down!" A man shouted, shrouded in a simple uniform, an ID swinging before being knocked off and clattering to the floor, plastic gleaming and reflecting across white sterile walls. The shout was half drowned by screams. Ears rung, people in coats cringed as the soldier and scientists firmly held their grips. A bark came up through the noise, splitting through like a gunshot, freezing all within their tracks._

"_Soldier, cease at once!"_

Our commanding officer, teacher, instructor. Dad.

_Protest rose from the struggling being, revealed to be a woman clad in a skin tight suit, her face red, gray eyes wide and wild as she roared for freedom. Brown eyes hardened, black hair graying just a bit more. Anger grounded in his voice, his jaw clenched at an unseen force._

"_ONI made it clear that this had to be done." And by 'this', he meant be made into a meatsicle._

"_But why does it have to be me, Mendez? I can't _stand_ cryo!" The woman shook off her live restraints, tied up her short hair, which shook in the loose ponytail, unwinding slowly with each movement. She walked up and stood in front of her commanding officer, not having to look down as much as the rest of her family had to. She was one of the shortest amongst the family; and now, after so many years, had officially attained that title. That made her less tough, underestimated, less intimidating, less likely to complete an interrogation that required her to roughly get information out of the informant. His voice softened somewhat, so little only special ears would be able to pick up after so long, his hardened eyes turning tired, used up._

"_This was not my choice, soldier. Your talents will be needed in the future, ONI can see that as well." Sympathetic amusement glinted in his eye. "It'll be over before you know it."_

And he was right. The day I thawed out seemed like I had only fell asleep in the freezer the other night. But instead of being greeted by friends and family, death and destruction was at my wake.

There is only static on the radio, no frequencies left unchecked. There has not been a ship in the air, no living thing on the planet, not even green to lighten up the day. Loneliness has come and gone like so many other emotions, passing and lingering in the edge of my vision, waiting to come and make its rounds once more.

_A needle pierced flesh, muscles relaxed, sagging, almost needing to be supported. Two came up and held her by the arms, grip now gentle. Fake reassurance. They helped me to the doors, the thick iron sliding open effortlessly to reveal familiar faces, now saddened and happy alike. Sad to see me go, happy for the future._

Would they still be happy? If they had made it this long, would they be happy with what they have been built for? What they have been trained for? Are they fighting for humanity, or are they sitting back and finally being privileged to experience what they have missed? I hope they are all alright, I'm sure that they are alright. My gut says that they are.

_Some were happy to see that I would have the chance to serve humanity in the near future, and possibly meet up to battle side by side with them once more. Others were happy that it wasn't them, and I would not blame them one bit._

_Black hair, unbinding from its restraints of thread and rubber, was brushed behind an ear by a pale hand. Amber eyes glistened, friendly and warm; always have been and always will be. A heart of gold, a natural fighter and saver. A savior._

_White hair tickled her temples, before she brushed them away as well._

"_Cal…" She smiled, closing her eyes, an image of soft perfection. An angel._

Passing hollowed buildings, the wind died long ago, relieving me of the mournful sounds the holey buildings made. I wonder what they are like now, if they are the same or if they have changed. I wonder if Anton still liked beaches, even after that fish tried chewing off his foot, if Will still could wrestle the worst of the bunch, if Kurt still got those "funny feelings" on missions. I wonder if Cal was still the quiet angel I knew, if Kelly had been outdone by another Spartan yet, if Vihn still played the piano, if René was still stuck in the tank…

_Bright blue eyes look at me, her black hair pulled into her trademark ponytail. Her grin shining, easygoing and humorous._

Gloved hands grip armor. My chest aches.

_Sparkling green eyes shone, holding back tears toughly. Freckles dance upon her face as dark brown bangs hang just above her eyebrows. Her lipped smirk intimidating, yet comforting._

My feet stumbled over rocks and bricks, dust clouding up behind my legs and clinging to metal as I stumbled down the road. Why did the feelings have to strike now? I looked around, half blind. I see a half crumbled down wall and stagger towards it, armor feeling heavier by the second.

_Honey eyes replaced amber, soft brown hair brushed against her cheeks, feather-like._

That had done it.

My armored shoulder clangs against the wall, dust and crumbled brick falling and bouncing off the worn metal suit. A hand absently claws at the helmet. Scanners show that it is dangerous to be exposed to open air. I'll have to do without the nice sweet air for comfort.

Metal clanks softly together as shoulders shake, almost unnoticeably at first, then the soft motions quicken. Armored head bowed, I remember. I remember my family. Then of my rousing.

I remember… tubes… long clear tubes, hooked up to my tank. It wasn't a cryo tank. No, it was more… technological. Medical. Did I injure myself in cryo sleep?

It's better not to think of it now.

I was traveling again, down Highway Route 62 West. My armor felt heavier every time I picked it up, lugging it with me along my travels. It would make sense, seeing as it has been years since it has been repaired or upgraded. It wasn't too worse for wear, but sooner or later I would have no choice but to scrap it. The shields have dwindled, faded from the lack of sun for its solar powered generator, the clouds ever darkening over the planet. Metal scuffed and scratched, paint faded in some areas while dark in others. Metal shone dully under archaic green paint.

Surprisingly the thought hurts me a little. My armor was falling apart, after rust from the liquid in the tank, the joints damaged and where the tubes were hooked up are starting to look quite worn. And yet it has been part of me for so long, it naturally feels like a second skin. That is what we were trained to feel when we had the armor on, and that is how I still feel now, long after training, long after those days. No, I would not simply scrap it. I would carry it on as long as my feet could carry my own weight, for this is the last physical symbol of my family.

My family, Spartans lined up, clad in our family's dark green MJOLNIR armor.

I tried the radio again, but it was fruitless. Anyone who would still be on this trashed planet would have gone insane long ago.

How long has it been since that day? The day I was frozen… And when was I moved to that mysterious tank? It was the only one in the destroyed room when I had awoke, the facility's power generator finally dying. It was so far down into the ground I believed that I had died in cryo and this was my hell, buried alive in a scientist's facility; a lab.

It cannot be Hell, not yet. I'm still alive, my heart beating, blood pulsing, head held high in a what used to be, and still is, prized possession.

Ah, now I remember. A few years ago, in the labs, I had looked over the lab reports, filed through some cabinets. Dated back to 2527… but that can't be. I would have been frozen. It confuses me even now, how could the reports date back from then unless if I were part of it? Or the reports were combined and I was reading another project's report.

My thoughts were scattered as something gleamed in the sun's rays, the metal seeming to sparkle as I looked on in disbelief. Could it be… yes it is! Feet clanked along the ground as I ran towards the rusty old vehicle- an old van rusted over from the glassing, in the cover of a half torn down garage. It looked to be in good condition. I lifted the creaky hood only to have it fall off. Brushing it off with a bang, I checked the engines. Well, everything that makes sense to me looks fine. I went around and opened the door, only to have it land on my armored foot. It rolled off, my eyes watching it before I clambered into the vehicle. Only if it works, that's what I care about.

Not finding a key I got down onto the floor, looking around and pulling out a protruding piece of metal that still managed to hang onto where the driver's door used to be. Using the metal, I embedded it between the sealed parts. Twisting it, it popped open and I removed it, grabbing wires and disconnecting them, then switching them up a few times for experimentation before the engine choked on rusted over wires and pipes. It rumbled, but only barely. I got out and checked the tires, only one busted up and three deflated of air, but still remotely drivable. I got back into the front seat and grabbed the wheel, only to see smoke erupt from the hoodless front. In mere seconds, the engine spat and died.

I sat there with my gloved hands on the wheel for minutes, staring until the smoke cleared up from the corpse of an engine. Then I leaned forward, and let my helmeted forehead rest against the steering wheel, jumping within my skin as the horn blared, before slowly slipping away like the rest of my life. In moments, it was silent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well Howdy-do! Seriously, it's been a long fricken time. It feels good to write again. I reread everyone's reviews, and you guys helped motivate me to get this out. I wrote this chapter and more back when I was still updating, but I added and revised some of the stuff so the writing style may be different in some areas and still have some of my old style still in there.**

**Would you guys prefer for it to be in first person point of view or third? First I think would be more personal, then I could switch off when I focus in on other characters. But third would keep that second bit a bit more smoother. Tell me what you think.**

**Enjoy and please tell me what you think?**

A hand to the helmet the Spartan listened, nothing but static fizzled in her ears as she checked each frequency twice. Nothing. It was a day since spotting the car, and it was a day no different than any other. Dirt and rubble crunched beneath boots as she continued down the road of failure, not a soul in sight, not a sight worthy to see. Thankfully she had moved on, past the buildings of decay, the crumbled city moaning in the loss of its inhabitants from help of the wind weaving in and out through destruction and devastation. Nothing but a tiny speck in the distance told of where the woman was going, where she was heading from, and where she was that very second. The old city left in the dust, the black clouded spot in the distance was my only direction besides the cracked asphalt beneath her feet, guiding another hopeless sap to its doom.

Cars scattered across the highway, a few had flown through the concrete wall separating incoming and ongoing traffic, head sized rocks being stepped over as the long dead vehicles melt in the smoldering heat. Sweat hung at the brow, threatening to drop down and blind her eyes with its salty warmth. Bodies, crashed through the vehicles deprived of their broken windshields and discarded like broken toys along the dirt, decayed and rotting as exposed bones bleached. Blood stained the ground and made up dried pools of mud alongside the road, cracked and gritty.

Hope seemed pointless, though it clung in the thick air as bare heat threatened to suffocate the believer. Spartan 113, the wasted Spartan II. Left for dead in a tank on a destroyed planet, to pay for the blood spilt upon her hands and tears left unshed for the lost. It seems that it has been three years since the Spartan had woken up from the tank, the clear green gel oozing off the armored plates and pooling upon the once white tiles. The frigid air bit at the armor, but could not be felt by the inhabitant, tucked safely behind folds of external armor, reactive metal liquid crystal, and internal padding. Yes, hope was futile. Yet she still clung onto it; it, she felt, being the last scrap of humanity. The key to sanity is hope; if you do not possess it then you turn insane. Life seems bleak, people look dull; everything has no meaning.

She looked up. Something wasn't right. She looked down.

Dust settled further into cracks, pebbles hopped along the sizzling pavement. That is not supposed to happen. She looked around, seeing nothing. Picking up the pace into a run, she focused her eyes on the crumbled city that has been slowly growing as I thought. Now it's the size of the fist, and continuing to grow as she ran. The hairs on the back of her neck were stiff, pressing against the internal padding of the MJNOIR suit.

The last time this has happened was on a training session after Deja's daily lesson on the Vietnam war back in 1955. Seems a bit exaggerated for teaching us the horrors of a war so long ago, over five hundred years ago, but the footage is still burned into the many minds of her siblings. The guns blazing, shredding apart bodies, wood splintering as blood stained where it splattered and pooled. The destruction of forests with Agent Orange, flesh being burned and stripped from its bones as the victims writhed and screamed in pure agony. Watching had made them all on edge, unable to look away from the holo as the footage played, becoming yet another gruesome war burned into their minds, so that may they never make the same mistakes as humanity's ancestors have. During these times, the cycle of humanity's mistakes must be broken.

It had been weeks since finding disappointment in the vehicle, the first real grasp for physical hope had died with the decayed engine. The heat of the insufferable planet was only added by the thick density of the acidic clouds, convecting the heat as the planet continues to cook itself. The heat had started to get to the Spartan, water preserves starting to run low. Twice she thought she saw someone in the corner of her eye, only to find the shadows drift away to nothingness. Each time she shook her head to fight the growing despair.

The road rocked from beneath the boots, bringing her back to the world around as a groan creaked up from the sun baked highway. Feet stumbled forward as she got up and slowed down, and while attempting to get her bearings, she tripped as the road moved from beneath. Gloved hands gripped at dirt and dust as the Spartan scrambled to the side of the road, hoping to escape the unknown threat. Vibrations racked the earth as a whirling sound made itself known in the air. Eyes shot to the sky as shadows crossed over rusted armor, orange visor reflecting the objects thousands of feet in the air.

Dread filled her entire being.

Ships appeared out of thin air as they flew on overhead, the great bulky shapes of the hulls shadowed the ground as a great hoard of ships covered up the sun, crossing over, allowing the sun to outline the gleaming metal. She stared listlessly, wondering if this was another trick of her mind, dehydration making her sweat underneath the armor.

Distinct movement caught her eye as a ship grew rapidly in size, the vibrations growing, the hum of the bizarre engine rattling her bones. Realizing the threat, she groped for a grip as loose dirt slipped through gloved fingers until finding purchase on rocks laid beneath the sandy earth. Boots scraped the earth, the armored being nearly able to stand, but the ship was already upon the woman. Orange visor looked back as blue reflected off the HUD, lighting up the gray dead world she had become accustomed to. Before she knew it, a glowing blue blob was shot out of some sort of cannon device attached beneath the alien ship. It hit the ground, but instead of crashing, dust formed up as it burned into the earth, scarring the war battered earth even more as the pebbles burned red like coals.

Eyes shot from the ground to the ship, pupils stretching wide as it dawned on her that this was no illusion. Panic was kept down only by life-long training. More and more balls of plasma rained down as the MJNOIR clad Spartan got up and ran from the unknown hostiles, unaware as another ship hovered down as they flew overhead in chase.

Pebbles tossed and turned under her boots as she scrambled to get away, to get some advantage in the impossible situation. Her mind screamed at her to run, to get away from the attacking beings, begging for the solitude she had been cursed with for far too long. She cursed herself for wishing that someone to find her, not realizing it could've been the enemy, whatever enemy this was. Another hole was seared into the earth behind her, the burning heat at her heels only imagined in her mind as she ran.

Drilled instincts and tactics forgotten, her breathing quickened as her heart raced, her panic-struck eyes stretched wide behind her visor. The whistle was her only warning before she was forced to dodge to the side, a sizzling ball of plasma impacted into the earth, leaving ash. More and more pelted down, forcing the Spartan to run like Hell's dogs were after her that very moment, leaving a scattered pattern of scorched earth in her wake.

A frantic mind pulled up images, fresh images from when she had first awoken. The buildings were still smoking, though the evidence of battle were far gone. She fought them at first, but they persisted, taking over her mind.

Bodies. Broken and battered, were strewn across the ground like a child's dolls. Beaten, broken, torn and dismembered, the images were put into the folder of her mind labeled 'war'. It was the results of war, it could only be it. No murderer, mafia, _monster,_ could have done the destruction that she has seen on this planet alone. She had seen reports, videos, and has witnessed battles herself, but none had prepared her for the massacre that had been brought upon her home. The images that she had forced to collect dust were renewed and brought about another pang.

Reminded of which, she vaguely wondered if these were the beings who brought great destruction upon her planet. The monsters who slaughtered humanity.

Receiving a kickstart, she forced her eyes to blink, and for a moment she couldn't see the flaming balls coming at her, the foreign ships whirling away overhead, intent on her execution. She saw nothing, felt nothing, which allowed her military drilled mind to come online once more, the child within that died so long ago curling in on itself.

Pulling her arm out in front of her, she flipped open a section on her forearm, revealing a grime covered screen and hurriedly turned it on, clicking in orders. Her chest plates unfolded, revealing a panel that reflected the cloud covered sky. The lack of sun would slow the process, but the organic giant would still grant her power if she had the chance to wait.

Sprinting across the dusted covering, the energy levels printed on the sidearm panel slowly rose, the shields flickering in and out, weak. They had done some tweaks to her armor, along with the others'. Before, the suit had to be hooked up to a huge generator and could not be moved, which caused obvious difficulties on the field. So then they changed to disconnected energy lines, 'wifi' if you would. Then, still keeping the floating technique, they experimented with older technology, solar power. The cracked reflective panels glinted, the levels climbing up the scanner.

A rock collided with the back of her helmet, throwing the being forward. Dust rose as the figure was blown off her feet, her helm digging into the dirt as pebbles scrambled from her form. Clouds began to settle, heavy from the sudden shift in wind, scorched earth trailed and left behind, steam rising from the sand. Dirt trickled down, sliding across dented green armor.

Silence.

A groan crackled in through broken speakers, a shoulder jerking as sparks erupted from its casing. The noise was overshadowed as the whirling drew close, thuds soon following as lifts dropped off its contents. Series of footsteps marched around, surrounding the disoriented Spartan. Shadows covered the golden visor, the hidden eyes slowly opening before pupils shot wide. Her breath stilled, her eyes rolling in her head as she slowly looked up, sprawled on her back with her armor locked and her mind drew a blank.

Shrill red eyes glared down, piercing through armor, blood running cold. No whirling of the ships, no scuffling of feet, no breathing or heart hammering within minds. The odd creature moved, a beam of energy shooting out of a metal stick, throwing a new light on its daunting features. Gurgles rose from its throat, sounding wet and chilling as its muscles bunched. It snapped her out of the trance; her hands digging into the dirt and pushing herself up and off to the side before the light struck the ground where her head was mere seconds ago. Squawks of surprise and urgency rang out, flipping the switch on her hearing as she launched herself to her feet, shards of glass trailing from her chest cavity where the solar panel once was.

She dug a foot into the ground, swinging the other as it collided to a monster's head. She turned and grabbed one of the bigger ones, this one in blue armor, and launched herself over it, kicking it in the back as she lunged.

_I'm going to die_

Spinning around, her head was knocked back as something collided with it. Instinctively a hand shot out, grabbing a creature's face and squeezing. Blood and brain oozed from between her fingers, her other fist snapping another's jaw loose from its hinge. Colors, so bright and gleaming and foreign to her eyes hurt them, making her want to look away but unable to. Training bred instincts ran her body, shoving her mind aside as it scrambled to make sense of it all. Noises bombarded her ears, making them sore and raw, so used to the silence. She heard the hum of the weapons had her turn tail, glowing bullets trailing after her, the stomping of feet quickly following.

_I don't want to die_

Adjusting her course, her mind screamed at her. The city would be safe, she'd be safe in the city. Get to the city.

Boots flew over the gravel, running parallel to the highway as she dodged the flying plasma bullets to the best of her advantage. Her shields, charged enough from the now solar panels that hung, broken and twisted, from her chest cavity, flickered with each hit she took.

In no time she sprinted passed the hidden wall of the city, dodging around cars as her attackers pursued. A burning sensation spread through her calf from a close plasma bullet, her shields flicking off, making her force herself to take a sharp right through an alley. Almost immediately she spotted the rotting fence, her speed slowing drastically from exhaustion. Bunching up her muscles, her pursuers nearing the corner, she launched herself over the fence, clipping the top. The wood splintered, catching on her armor as she landed awkwardly. Hurriedly, she looked around as she stopped at the lip of the alley. She could hear the growls and yips of the aliens, making her dash down the street.

Her shields flickered back on, recovered.

Her head screamed at her to turn around, to fight back. Instead she was running away like a new recruit on his first day of action. But she didn't have a gun, and she didn't know her enemies. Both were a disadvantage, the Spartan knew, and yet instincts persisted. They told her to grab a rock, a stick, her helmet- _something_ and neutralize the threat.

She sprinted across the dry earth, dust picking up after each footfall. The thunder made by alien guns and feet of all sizes boomed, bright blue balls of flame streaking past the green soldier. The creatures had found her too quickly. She disappeared around another corner, through another alley, cutting through a narrow street, right, left, right, left. Anything to throw off her attackers.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, heart hammering in her ribcage, wanting to break free and escape from this hell hole. She slowed, muscles stiffening from overuse.

Just when she thought she'd be safe in the confinements of the tall buildings acting as her safe house, she was betrayed again by the vengeful world. A shriek pricked at her ears, the raw eardrums trembling as eyes flicked up to what looked to be an alien fighter jet. Her stomach lurched as a green fiery ball of plasma shot out of the cannon and aimed straight at her.

Lunging forward, the earth behind her exploded, the aspalt smoldering and glowing green. Metal groaned as it scraped against dirtied pavement, the soles of her boots meeting the ground again as they supported her weight. Bewildered, she almost didn't catch that it was coming around for another attack.

She dodged to the side, blue bullets heating the ground of where she once was, only for her to look up in the face of a beast.

Two halfs of a jaw lined on either side of its face, piercing black eyes staring down at her with untold hate. Fangs were attached to the meaty sausages on its face, teeth as sharp as knives on the underside where lighter flesh was. Its skin was brown and leather, seeing many suns and withstanding immense amounts of heat. Its alien armor was gold, shining with pride in the cloudy light. It had no ears nor no nose, and when it snarled at her she saw that the sausages would spread apart, revealing that it had no bottom to its mouth. It growled low in its chest, renewing the panic in her chest.

Not fast enough, the beast's claws raked against her shoulder, the metal squealing, and she wasn't curious as to how much it would hurt if it had been bare flesh instead of raw metal. She rolled away, her shoulder sparking. Springing to her feet, the sparks glowed as she took off down the street. She ducked in and out of buildings and alleyways, trying to evade her pursuers. She could hear their ragged pants, the squeaks from the little ones, and the crashes made from debris underfoot.

Eventually the noise started to be put behind her, the whirl of the searching aircraft whistling farther away, and she couldn't hold up the armor's weight anymore. It sunk and clanged against a stone wall curled inside a decaying building, debris falling away and brushing across the scuffed paint. Sweat rolled down her face, ragged breaths fogging up the HUD on her helmet. The undersuit worn was sticky, chafing uncomfortably against her skin. Not for the first time she wanted to throw off her armor, the suit, and just feel the air, no matter how poisonous it'd be. But then she'd be exposed, vulnerable. She shuddered, desperately trying to ignore the events that happened no more than moments ago. The roars and gurgles of the aliens still rung loudly in her ears.

She wheezed, the breath coming in with shaky movements before being forced out with grunts and whistles. Her glove went to her chassis, gripping fruitlessly at her chest as if the motion would bring more filtered air to her. Soon her heart rate started to calm, her chest pains starting to be soothed as ragged breaths turned into small gasps. Closing her eyes as sweat dripped into them, she licked her lips, tasting the tang of salt.

All around her it was quiet, and if she held her breath, she could pretend she was dead along with the city around her. Dead and not having to deal with the shock of the strange creatures wanting to kill her, dead and not having the hope of being found. Tears mixed with the hot sweat, burning her eyes even more. Her throat tightened, monsters creeping in through the corners of her eyes that are nothing but shadows.


End file.
